


A Harsh Review

by mintbalm



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Kismesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintbalm/pseuds/mintbalm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Kismesis is rooted in respect as well as hate. Would I be here after twelve years if I did not enjoy the challenge of your infuriating personality?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Harsh Review

A fashion magazine hit the table jiggling her coffee. A bit of it sloshed out of the cup. Kanaya tsked and sopped up the spill with a napkin before it could dribble on her skirt.

“What is this?” Rose said. The silky soft voice clashed with the hard slant of her violet eyes. Kanaya met those eyes without flinching.

“It was substandard work.”

“Bitch. I spent two years on that novel.”

“Resorting to gendered insults? You're boring me now, Rose. Sit down.” Kanaya pushed out the free chair.

Rose took the seat and settled in. Kanaya followed the red flush on her cheeks down the smooth column of her neck. A thin film of sweat glistened in the valley of her breasts. The soft curves of her chest moved up and down in deep, heaving breathes. Kanaya looked away.

“I thought you'd keep your black romantic gestures out of the realm of my work, Kanaya. Or do you want me to end up homeless and starving? Perhaps that would suit you? Hmm? Having me helpless and forced to rely on you to feed and cloth me.”

Kanaya smiled showing too many teeth and rifled through her purse for a thick, worn book drowning in multi-colored post-its.

“I read your novel. Twice. I took copious notes.” She flipped through the book. The margins were covered with careful, neat handwriting. Rose could briefly see words like, “Trite,” and “Unbelievable.”

“I wrote that review based on my honest opinion. Your latest novel is shit.”

Rose closed her eyes. Kanaya continued skimming through the book. Disdain colored her voice.

“Pages one to forty-one are spent on the protagonist taking a morning stroll down the seashore and comparing her life to the exoskeletons of mollusks.”

“Shells.”

“What?”

“Shells. The exoskeletons of mollusks have a much nicer colloquial name. Your editor must view the work you submit with fear and loathing. But, go ahead, continue on with your diatribe.” She opened her eyes and picked up Kanaya's cup. She turned it, considering, then took a long sip. The pink bow of her mouth smudged lipstick on the rim. The muscles in her throat flexed as she swallowed. She licked a drop of coffee off of the corner of her lips. Kanaya licked her own lips, automatically, and stumbled back to her train of thought.

“The protagonist, Susan, is finally interrupted in the middle of page 41 by a male character so bland that I can quote his introduction and have summed the whole of him. I quote, 'He worked in the bank, wore straight ties, a double breasted suit. Fifty hours a week put crowfeet around his kind eyes.'”

“I thought you'd appreciate a character with fashion sense,” Rose said.

“Richard did nothing throughout the entire book but feed her lattes, massage her shoulders, cry, and speak in platitudes.”

“Some would say that he's the ideal man.”

“Don't condescend to me or the rest of your readers. You wrote someone you wanted us to like, but whom you neither know nor like.”

“You wanted him to hunt? Knock her over the head and roar?”

“I wanted to care about him. I dreadfully wanted to care because the next two-hundred pages is one long exposition of how a white, repressed, heterosexual couple wishes to have sex and does not. Oh, and how they save furbeasts with too many toes. Those twenty-six pages about the furbeasts comprised the best part of the story.”

“I have a lot of fans. They say that is one hallmark of a good writer.”

“You are a brilliant writer. Those fans don't know what you're capable of.”

“Oh, my, Kanaya, a compliment? Is our kismesis a bit red today?”

“Kismesis is rooted in respect as well as hate. Would I be here after twelve years if I did not enjoy the challenge of your infuriating personality?”

Rose picked up Kanaya's unresisting hand and bit the tip of her finger. Kanaya hissed at the pain and smoothed her thumb against Rose's lips and teeth.

“I have a room at the 24 hour motel two blocks away,” Rose said. She dangled a set of keys.

 

\----------------------------

 

“Do you purposely look at hotel ratings and pick those that have less than one star?” Kanaya groused. She wiggled against the harsh cotton sheets.

“Stop moving,” Rose said whacking her lightly. She had most of her body draped over Kanaya's, her head resting in the crook of Kanaya's neck.

“I swear if I had a black light this room would look like a painting from by that Pollack human.”

“You said you had something for me. Or was that some sort of poor sexual come-on?”

“Oh, yes. Wait here.” Kanaya slid off the bed and went to her large purse on a chair. Rose watched the sway of her bare hips.

“I'm returning this. Don't burn it. It would be a futile effort as I still have the electronic copy.” Kanaya tossed a hefty stack of bound paper onto the bed. It bounced and hit Rose.

Rose read the cover and frowned. She skimmed through the first few pages.

“I wrote this when I was a teenager. I deleted it and burned all of my notes.”

“But that was after you made the mistake of showing it to me.”

“Sollux,” Rose said.

“Salvaging it from your harddrive proved no challenge for him,” Kanaya said. She sat on the bed.

“You invaded my privacy.”

“Yes.”

“Stole my possession.”

“I returned your laptop. Were you ever aware of it missing?”

“Broke my trust!” Rose said. She sat up in the bed and pulled the sheet to her chest.

“I'm your kismesis. I'm allowed. Especially to save a great work of fiction!”

“It's a stupid wizard adventure!”

“It's a deconstruction of the fantasy genre, moving it away from the Western-centric, heteronormative, male-chauvinist sphere it usually inhabits. It's contains fantastic, beautiful descriptions. Believable, sympathetic characters. It's language is dense and collegiate, but it's passionate!”

Rose gently caressed the manuscript and set it on the side table. She wiped her eyes. “Come here.” She grabbed Kanaya's hand and pulled her fully onto the bed. She pushed Kanaya against the headboard and climbed onto her lap, kissing her hard, biting at her lips, and ripping welts up Kanaya's sides with clawed hands.

“You are the worst Kismesis,” Rose laughed and nipped at Kanaya's ear. “I've read harsher reviews of my novel on Amazon. Many of the more esteemed literary reviewers refused to even read my book – that hurt. Your tame, meandering, carefully worded book report in that fashion rag can't even compare. Then the way you fling a time capsule of my youth onto the bed we just fucked on and call it great after I went through all the trouble to find the worst hotel and wear the ugliest pair of panties I could find? I think I'm the only one working on our black romance.”

She kissed her way down Kanaya's neck. “How is this supposed to last twelve more years?”

“You seemed very upset when you entered the cafe.”

“To get you into the mood. By the way you immediately started staring at my breasts it worked.”

“They were the ugliest panties. Absolutely hideous. Were those squiddles? You looked embarrassing.”

“And that's why you ripped them apart with your teeth.”

“I suppose this joint venture relies mostly on you,” Kanaya whispered. “I will try harder.”

“Always so earnest, Kanaya. It's unbecoming. Now shut up and kiss me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Practicing for my ladystuck fill because I decided that I should attempt fiction to add to my art. If you have advice, especially on character voice, please leave a comment!


End file.
